Completely Insufferable
by Embolalia
Summary: A series of tags to season four episodes, focusing on Tony and Ziva. Chapter 13 the last! follows Identity Crisis 5x04 . Tony thinks he's blown his shot with Ziva entirely until an outburst from her gives him hope.
1. Completely Insufferable

**Completely insufferable**

**Author's Note:** I got sucked in to NCIS somewhere around the Christmas marathons, and while I've seen all of the seasons now, I never got a chance to write about the earlier seasons. So to celebrate summer vacation, I got season 4 on DVD. This piece will be a series of episode tags and missing scenes that I come up with as I work my way through it, focusing on Tony and Ziva, though not necessarily romantically. Slightly AU. Disclaimer hereby declaimed.

The first chapter takes places post-Hiatus 2 and pre-Shalom, inspired by one of Ziva's lines in Shalom.

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They are watching a documentary about bears, Ziva alternately mocking it and gasping incredulously, Tony responding by defending the film and teasing her, the way they do. This has become something of a routine for them, and for all the flirting that goes on, they are comfortable. They know where the line is. But then she is leaning up, into his space, a little closer than usual, a little more seriously.

"Ziva, we probably shouldn't," Tony says, but his eyes spend a long moment on her lips.

"Probably not," she agrees as his eyes meet hers again, and then she kisses him. Her mouth is soft and warm and when, after a few seconds, he begins to kiss her back, Ziva swings a leg across Tony's lap and straddles him. He groans into her mouth and pulls back. His eyes warn her that he has not yet committed to this, that he still thinks it's a bad idea. She kisses him harder, deeper, and feels him react; his hands are groping now, one slipping up the back of her shirt, the other on her ass pulling her against him.

A few minutes pass before they breathe, but suddenly Ziva finds Tony's hands on her upper arms, holding her a few inches further from him than she'd like right now.

"What, Tony?"

"We can't, Ziva."

"Sure we can." She rolls her hips against him, staring into his eyes, and watches him grit his teeth against the gasp that her body elicits. She leans forward to press her lips into the crook of his neck, but Tony holds her firmly upright.

She pulls back. "You're serious?" She's suddenly embarrassed, his rejection like ice water flowing over her. She cannot remember the last time she's failed at a seduction. Worse, she can—a married Hassidic man.

One of Tony's hands catches her chin as she shifts away from him. "Ziva. I want you right now, I know you know that." She's not looking away and his hand falls from her chin to her hip. He's right. They way their bodies are pressed there's no way she can interpret this as lack of desire. "I have to lead the team and the way you and I work, we couldn't be there, like that, and here like this. I know you see that."

He's right, she does, but at this moment she couldn't care less. It's been nearly a year since she's felt the weight of him sinking her into a bed, and his hand on her hip is reminding her how much they still have to explore. He takes his hand away when he realizes he's distracting her, and she meets his eyes again.

"Ziva, I can't." Both of his hands are off of her now. It's sweet in a way, she thinks. He's trusting her not to touch him, not to push him now that he's said no. She could; it's still an option. If she kissed him now, she's pretty sure Tony couldn't summon up the willpower to push her away again. Instead of fantasizing, she looks into his face. His eyes are pleading. He needs her to make this decision for herself, but he also needs her to choose what he needs her to. For all that he's exerting control, he is weak here, has felt weak since Gibbs abandoned them. She can't take his power away.

Instead, she swings herself back off his lap, next to him on the couch now, with her legs drawn up and her arms hugging them close. Tony's hands grip his kneecaps. Self-control can be exhausting.

"Should I leave?" she asks softly.

"Yes." It's a slap in the face even though she anticipated it. "But not—just for tonight."

"So you can jerk off in the shower?" Her tone is back to its normal sass even though the image that springs to mind is more than a little alluring to her right now.

"Now where exactly did you learn that little bit of American slang?" He's teasing; they are back in safe territory again. They are people they know again. Tony's hands are still clenched on his knees.

Ziva stands, looks down at him. Other nights she has kissed his cheek good-bye. She almost leans to do it now, to restore the normalcy or perhaps to push its boundaries further. Instead she touches his cheek with an open hand.

"Goodnight, Tony." She is still embarrassed at some level, but she keeps her face open to him, lets him read into her unabashed affection what he will.

He nods, swallowing hard. Her fingers are grazed by his stubble as she pulls away and this is it, the moment when the tension is unbearable and it's up to her to walk away. So she does.

A week later, she tells Gibbs Tony has been completely insufferable since he left, glaring at Tony all the while. Under the glare is an undercurrent of relief. The way Tony can't stop staring at her, safe and alive even if wanted for espionage, tells her she hasn't imagined anything; someday, somehow, they will make sense of this thing between them.


	2. Not Worth Dying Over

**Not Worth Dying Over**

**Author's Note: **I got sucked in to NCIS somewhere around the Christmas marathons, and while I've seen all of the seasons now, I never got a chance to write about the earlier seasons. So to celebrate summer vacation, I got season 4 on DVD. This piece will be a series of episode tags and missing scenes that I come up with as I work my way through it, focusing on Tony and Ziva, though not necessarily romantically. Slightly AU. Disclaimer hereby declaimed.

The second chapter takes places immediately following Sandblast (4x07).

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At the time, he is terrified, his heart racing. He follows her as she climbs toward the bomb, trying to keep from seeming too agitated, unable to leave her to the danger. He teases her, covering the nerves, even as his brain screams that this is literally the worst possible time to distract her. "I'm staring down your shirt, right now," he tells her.

She makes a joke back about him having a girlfriend and at least now he's terrified about something that isn't the bomb.

Eventually she comes back at him with, "See anything good?"

"Real good," Tony answers honestly. "Not worth dying over."

Her response tells him she's taken him a bit too seriously. Tony is instantly repentant. "What if I said it was?" he asks.

"Well," she answers, "I guess we'll never know."

He knows her answer is more about the night he refused her, more than a month ago now. It's true that he's more or less saying the same thing right now. It's more important that Gibbs not kill both of them than that they consummate whatever tension is between them—and as long as they can't, he'd rather not evaluate it too thoroughly. Nevertheless, as he watches her swing down from the beams, the adrenaline still rushing through him reminds Tony of how much he craves this woman.

By the time he turns up at Ziva's door that night, Tony's calmer. Calm enough not to do anything stupid, or so he tells himself.

She seems a bit surprised as she lets him in, and Tony berates himself internally for not spending more time with her lately. It's the director's fault, but she doesn't know that. No wonder she looked hurt in that warehouse. Not for the first time, he weighs the effects of telling her.

"What's up?" Ziva asks, leaning back against the door he's closed behind her.

Tony's gut tightens as he prepares what he came here to say.

"I told you you weren't worth dying over, earlier," he starts.

"Wrong. You told me my breasts weren't worth dying over," she corrects. He's not sure how to read the way she's still slouching away from him.

"Ziva, you're my partner," he says, his voice undeniably serious. "If I had to throw myself on that bomb to save your life, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Something he can't interpret flickers across her features and Tony remembers her sister and flinches. Before he can speak, Ziva steps toward him and hugs him. Her chin is over his shoulder; the embrace is a chaste one, but Tony holds onto her hard. Hard enough to feel her eyelashes flicker shut against his neck, to feel her breath on his ear as she whispers, "Me, too."

A minute or more passes, and Ziva pulls away. They go the rest of the night in their normal pattern of take-out and a movie, but hours later, Tony turns during the credits to find Ziva soundly sleeping with her head on his shoulder. And try as he might, he can't ever remember her falling asleep without her gun in arm's reach, before. He strokes her hair out of her face, but doesn't wake her. He is awed at her trust. Before he leaves, he makes sure to leave her weapon in her reach. He's not sure what he'd do if anything happened to her.


	3. Really, Really Trying

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone for your reviews! It's really gratifying to know people are enjoying this.

Chapter 3 takes place during/after Smoked (4x10). It's more introspection than I'd really like in one chapter, but the next few will feature more dialogue and action. Hope you like it!

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**Really, Really Trying**

"Hope you had a better day than I did, Miss Jeanne Benoit...thinking a lot about you lately. And I'm really, really trying to figure out a way to not screw this up," Tony whispers into the door.

It's the truth. Every waking moment lately seems consumed by the Grenouille mission. He's not new to disappointing women, but this one's being set up for it. She'll never see it coming. Tony wishes there were someone who could help him, and what's worse is that he knows there are people who can, all around him. The Director doesn't seem to be worried about this side of the mission, but Gibbs could surely give him advice about how best to manage. How to be just enough of a bastard to let her expect things to end badly without actively ending the relationship before it suits his purposes. Tony grins at the thought.

Ziva, of course, would know best what he should do. And he wants to tell her, to explain why he's been so absent lately, why he doesn't come over on weeknights anymore or go out to lunch with her and McGee. He thinks if he talked to her, she could explain how to make this seem clinical, how to detach himself. And his other brain thinks that if he slept with her, he'd remember what a weak resemblance Jeanne has to the woman he really wants. He shakes the idea away. Until Jenny gives permission, it's up to him to figure this out on his own. And on his own, he's not sure if there is a way to not screw this all up.

As he turns to leave, Jeanne opens the door and Tony suppresses a grimace as he turns. "I thought you were sleeping."

"I was," she says, and pulls him inside.

She smiles flirtatiously as they trade movie references, and the way she laughs relaxes Tony. He grins just watching her, and worries behind the facade that every quiet moment like this is screwing things up for her, and maybe for him too. In the meantime, he does Jenny's bidding and has sex with Jeanne without complaint.

When they're finished, Tony tells her he needs to shower before bed, fakes insult and injury when she is too sleepy to accompany him, and escapes gratefully into the bathroom.

Tony locks the door before checking his cellphone. Ziva has called twice since they left work three hours earlier. He scrolls through the calls in his call history. More than half of them from this week are from her: all missed. He can only imagine what she must be thinking. The illness references started out as a joke, but he knows she's worried, knows he would be if she were disappearing like this.

As much as he wants to soothe Ziva's fears, he knows that if he talks to her, or even relaxes with her, she'll figure him out. Because he wants her to. He wants this secret to be taken off his shoulders, wants the advice of the spy he trusts most. But slightly more than that, he knows she'll see in his face that there have been moments, like trading movie titles earlier, when he really is drawn to Jeanne, nights like tonight when their sex has been more intimate than casual. Sure it's a lie, but he cares about her more than nearly any of the one to three night stands he's had over the last few years.

He tells himself it's for Jenny's reasons that he doesn't take the calls, and turns on the shower to drown out his thoughts.


	4. He Won't Tell Me

**He Won't Tell Me**

Author's Note: Chapter 4 takes places roughly around **Driven** (4x11), when Ziva stays late and tells Gibbs she's researching medical conditions Tony might have, but could really fall anywhere in the middle of season 4. I've never written Palmer before, but I quite liked him. Disclaimed.

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Ziva leans against the wall opposite the entrance to Autopsy, waiting for the moans to stop. A few minutes after they finally do, the automatic doors open and Michelle Lee steps out, peering around and jumping nearly two inches in the air when she finds Ziva right in front of her. Ziva forces her shocked expression into a smirk. "Good evening, Agent Lee," she murmurs knowingly.

"Officer David," Lee gasps with a nod as she pushes the elevator button as hard as she can, twice.

Ziva smiles innocently. "Is Palmer still around?"

Lee looks like she might have a heart attack. "Yes!" she squeaks as she steps backward into the elevator, her face bright red.

The door dings shut and Ziva allows herself a chuckle before gathering herself and entering Autopsy.

"Ziva! What's up?" Palmer greets her familiarly. He's sitting at the desk that's usually Ducky's, as if he's been doing paperwork for hours.

Ziva nods a greeting and approaches him slowly. She leans against the cabinet beside his desk and Palmer cocks his head, questioning.

"You know Tony well, yes?" she asks first.

Palmer looks surprised. "Sure. I mean, I don't work with him as much as you all do upstairs, but I've gotten to know him."

Ziva nods crisply. "I know this may sound odd." She begins to pace. She would like to interrogate him, to grab him by the labels and crash him into the wall and force the truth out of him. But even as she imagines it, Palmer's face morphs into Tony's. Palmer probably knows nothing, but she knows Tony talks to him sometimes. Palmer is the only man around here that's Tony's age but not his probie.

"Ziva? What will sound odd?" Palmer prompts.

She looks back at him. "Has Tony come to you recently with any medical questions?" she asks bluntly.

Palmer looks genuinely confused. "About which case?"

Ziva shakes her head. "No, about himself."

Palmer shakes his head in turn. "Nope. I don't know why he would, plus he seems healthy enough to me."

Ziva sighs and continues to pace.

"What makes you think there's something wrong with him?"

She's startled that Palmer's still talking to her, but it's the right question. No wonder Tony finds him so useful. "He keeps leaving work in the middle of the day, sometimes without telling Gibbs, and he was wearing a hospital bracelet one day. And another day he was taking samples in for testing."

Palmer frowns, then interrupts. "Urine and blood samples are usually collected at the hospital."

Ziva grimaces. "The other kind of sample."

Palmer nods understanding with a distasteful look.

"And once I grabbed his phone while he was talking and he was calling the hospital. He has two cellphones now, I don't know what that is about either."

Palmer watches her pace and talk, taking it in. "Well," he begins slowly, "I don't know why he'd have two cellphones for medical reasons. In fact, they've been linked in some studies to brain cancers, so really if you were concerned for your health, you'd avoid--"

"_Palmer_," Ziva cuts him off.

He grins. "Sorry. So, there may be some medical problem going on, but there's no way I could try to diagnose it without knowing symptoms and test results. But why would he have the two phones?"

Ziva's stops moving and stares at him, unwavering, for a long moment as she processes the question. This is the right question to be asking, again.

"What?" Palmer finally squeaks out as she continues to stare at him.

"You only carry two cellphones if two people, or sets of people, might be seeing your cellphone, and you don't want them to see evidence of one another." She states it simply, a rote fact memorized years ago that suddenly illuminates the depth of the Tony's mysterious behavior.

"So, who else is Tony talking to?" Palmer speculates. "Is he seeing someone?"

"It's more than that," Ziva responds slowly. "Who is he seeing that has to be secret from us? Or since he doesn't mind me knowing he has two phones, who does he have to keep us secret from?"

They stare at each other, pondering the answer, but neither can come up with one. At last Ziva glances away, eyes drifting across the floor as she continues to think. She laughs as she spots a gold earring lying by the wheel of one of the autopsy tables.

"Did you figure it out?" Palmer asks excitedly.

Instead of answering, she bends and picks it up, holding it up to him, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Palmer turns bright red and speaks quickly. "That must have fallen off a corpse, I mean usually we strip them before we lay them out, but maybe one of the evidence bags came in by accident and--"

Ziva cuts him off by tossing the earring up in the air and catching it. "I'll just return this to Agent Lee on my way out, shall I?" she asks lightly.

Palmer takes a breath to come up with another explanation, then sighs and deflates. "Thanks, Ziva."

She laughs and shakes her head teasingly at him as she walks back to the door. When she gets there, she stops and turns, looks at him again pensively. "Palmer, it might be better if we kept this whole conversation to ourselves."

He nods readily. "Of course."

Ziva smiles briefly. "Thank you."

Palmer calls a friendly good-night after her as she leaves, and Ziva waves back, but as she steps into the elevator, she is worried again. Illness makes a good excuse, but it seems likely now that Tony is involved in something far more complicated.

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A/N Labels instead of lapels was actually a typo, but when I caught it on rereading, it seemed so fitting that I left it that way :)


	5. Personal Connections

**Personal Connections**

This one is written during and after **Dead Man Walking **(4x16)**. **If any of you haven't seen it in a while, that's the one where Ziva falls for a man who comes to Gibbs et al to solve his own murder due to radiation poisoning. His name is Roy; you'll see him in the story.

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"Ziva has personal connections?" Tony tosses the comment out, but it bothers him as he goes on processing evidence. He can't have her, he knows it, so he tries to ignore it. It's been months since that night when she kissed him, and most of the time he can avoid thinking of her romantically. Well, he can usually stop himself fairly quickly. But now jealousy flickers through his brain. Has she been seeing this guy? No, of course not, she couldn't place him. Now her connection is bugging him as much as it bugged her before. Tony chuckles, earning a bewildered glance from McGee. He shrugs at the other man and heads toward the elevator, dismissing his fears about Ziva. There's no way she knows this man well, and if he's going to die, she'll need support, not jealousy that he can't back up with action.

*****

Around two in the morning, Ziva forces herself out of her visitor's chair before she drifts into sleep.

Roy stops in the middle of a sentence at her sudden movement. "Ziva?"

"Sorry, I'm just sleepy. Continue."

He smiles and watches as she starts to pace, then continues his story. "Anyway, my father tried to insist that Annapolis was the only way to go. I know it sounds like he was being manipulative, and he was, but he was also sure he knew what was right for me."

She nods knowingly.

"It was really the only thing I ever defied him about."

"And it worked out," Ziva adds cheerfully. Her words turn into a yawn.

Roy clasps her hand and pulls her down to sit on the edge of the bed. He keeps his fingers laced through hers. "Have you ever defied your father?"

Ziva stares at the wall a moment, remembering. "Certainly not as a teenager. I never questioned his career path for me—the army was required, and then Mossad made sense. I'd never really thought about other options. And I felt...a sense of duty."

Roy smiles his understanding. He is pale, and is losing more and more of his hair, but his eyes are clear as he watches her.

"Later, when I was able to see my father as my Director and not my parent, I finally understood him as fallible, but I think...I think I have only defied him professionally, if that makes sense."

"It does," Roy tells her.

"Though there have been times..." Ziva pauses with surprise. She was about to speak of Ari. In the years that have passed since his death, there has been no one around her who didn't hate him, and justly. But it makes sense now, so she goes on. "I had a brother, who died about two years ago."

"I'm sorry." He squeezes her hand sympathetically and she smiles.

"It's alright. He—he was a double agent, he betrayed me and Mossad and Israel, and I believe it was my father's fault. I didn't know until it was too late to save my brother, but I think, and hope, that if I had known about it before it was too late, I would have defied my father in that matter."

"That's awful," Roy says empathetically.

Ziva nods, unexpected tears in her eyes.

"Were you close?"

She smiles, remembering. "When we were young, he was my hero. He was eight when he came to live with us—he'd been raised by his mother until then, he was just my half-brother—and I was four. Our little sister, Tali, was just an infant. I'd been pretty excited about being a big sister, but my mother told me as soon as Ari showed up, I followed him everywhere like his shadow."

Roy grins. "My little sister went through that phase, too. She wanted to be just like me and it drove me crazy." He chuckles.

Ziva yawns again and Roy tightens his grip on her hand. "Don't fall asleep now, I need you to protect me."

She smiles down at him and it amazes Ziva how much she has opened herself to this man in just a day, how easily she has talked about the lost childhood she rarely mentions even to Tony. He smiles back and for a moment she wonders if she could kiss him, but at the same time their budding friendship is more chaste than that; certainly she could feel romantically for him, but right at this moment she is more enthralled at meeting a reflection of herself and her values in someone else, at catching a glimpse of who she might have become under different circumstances.

As she ponders this man, she yawns again and they both laugh. Finally she pulls herself up off the bed. "I'd better go get more coffee," she says softly. "Don't let anyone come in and poison you before I get back!"

"I won't," Roy assures her, and she watches him through the glass as she heads down the hall to the machine. When she returns, he is soundly sleeping, and Ziva watches his chest rise and fall as she nurses her coffee.

*****

The next night is worse. It's inevitable now; they know he will be dead in a matter of hours. All day she's been irritable, has been snapping at Tony and sparring with McGee, but now there's no one to fight, she's just here watching Roy die.

He tries to make her smile to the last, and when he can't talk any more, she tells him stories, pranks she and Tony have pulled, performances she used to give, ridiculous cover stories she's had to pull off—anything to keep talking and keep from crying. Roy watches her quietly, tenderly, as he fades in and out of sleep.

She holds his hand when he goes.

It's after midnight when Ziva finally gets home, exhausted, the tears that have been choking her the entire drive finally spilling down her cheeks as she slides to the ground inside the entryway, leaning back against the door, his hat in her hands.

Tony wakes up at the thump of Ziva sitting down and takes a second to figure out where he is, why the couch he is laying on smells so much better than his own. A staccato breath from the other side of the couch prompts him to sit up suddenly, looking toward the door.

Ziva shrieks in surprise as he pops up, her hand instantly on her gun.

Tony puts his hands in the air comically. "Just me!" But even as he says it, he sees how distraught she is and regrets it. He moves swiftly around the couch and sits beside her. Ziva pushes the tears back down again.

"He died?" Tony asks softly.

Ziva nods, grateful not to have to say the words herself.

"I'm sorry."

"He was a good man," she tells him firmly, though her voice quavers.

Tony puts a hand on his shoulder, struggles to find words to talk about it, since she is. "You really liked him, huh?"

Ziva tilts her head a moment. "I was drawn to his sense of—of patriotic duty. Of doing his part to serve and protect with every moment of his life, every fiber of his being."

Tony looks away from her. "I don't feel that the way you do."

"I know."

He looks back at her, surprised.

"There's nothing wrong with being different from each other, Tony. We come from very different places. But it is lovely and rare to find someone you have much in common with in a foreign place. There's less," she smiles weakly, "less translation involved."

"I'm sorry you lost him."

"Me, too." She watches Tony carefully, and sees that he's still feeling inadequate. "But Tony," she adds, "it is all the rarer to get to know someone different from you so well you can translate for each other without a beat."

His smile and her own admission make her suddenly uncomfortable. This day is about Roy.

"Thank you, for covering for me earlier. Walking with him—I stayed with him til he...died, and it was the last good moment he had." She clutches the orange hat in her hands and suddenly she is crying, sobbing. Tony wraps his arms around her, lets her lean against his chest as the tears flow.

"I'm sorry," she hiccups, trying to wipe her face.

Tony pushes her loose hair back behind her ear. "It's not weakness to feel pain, Ziva. Hell, we'd all think less of you if you _didn't_ mourn for someone you cared about, even if just briefly."

She nods at his words, mouth twisting. Another sob escapes and this time she lets them come.

When her breathing finally slows, she rests against Tony a while, until he can tell she's nearing sleep.

"Come on," he whispers, standing and supporting her as she rises. "Time for bed." She looks up at him, miserable still, her mind a fog of loss, and he leads her into the bedroom, strips her to her tank top and underwear, and pushes her toward the bed. He goes to get her a glass of water, and by the time he returns, she's asleep.

For what feels like a long time, Tony stands in the doorway watching her. He'd been horrified by the thought that she might love someone else, but he's glad to have seen her like this. When she first came, he teased her often enough about being a machine, cold-hearted, a killer. While she might be the last, there is no way he can doubt that she feels deeply. He wonders what she would feel if he told her about Jeanne, about the mission. Gibbs understood, or at least understood the secrecy. Ziva has the same sense of duty, but he knows there's too much between them for this to be simple. And right now, she's in enough pain as it is.


	6. Unknotting Knots

**Unknotting Knots**

Chapter 6 follows **Skeletons (4x17).** After Abby tries to get Ziva to talk about losing Roy, they end up having a much different conversation.

(The knots metaphor comes straight from the episode, in which Abby is upset about Marty breaking up with her and tries to use being knotted up inside and unknotting the knots to explain to Ziva what she's been feeling and how Ziva is welcome to talk to her about Roy.)

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Ziva steps out of the elevator and her face falls. For all that Abby seemed cheered earlier, there is no music playing now.

She enters the lab cautiously, calling out Abby's name. "Abby? Are you still here? Palmer, McGee and I are going to get a drink if you want..." Ziva trails off as she sees Abby, curled behind her desk with her hippo and staring at a man's face on her computer monitor.

"Abby?" Ziva asks again, crouching beside her.

"Hey, Ziva." Abby is still focused on the man's picture. Ziva sits down beside her.

"So, sometimes you think knots are untied but they don't stay that way?"

"Or they get retied," Abby sniffles.

Ziva cocks her head. "You talked to him since this afternoon?"

"No," Abby moans.

Ziva frowns and hesitantly puts her hand on Abby's shoulder. "What happened?"

"You know facebook?" She glances at Ziva and sees the woman drawing a blank. She sits up cross-legged as she starts to talk. "Well, I'll show you that later, anyway it's this place online where you can connect with your friends and post pictures and stuff."

Ziva nods encouragingly.

"And he put up all the pictures he took at this party a few weeks ago, and some of them were him and me." There are tears on her cheeks and Ziva slides her arm around Abby's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Abby," Ziva says stiffly.

"Thanks, Ziva." Abby wipes her face with the back of her hand. "It just looks, in those pictures, like he likes me! I don't know what changed." She sighs. "Gibbs tried to convince me it's his fault if he doesn't appreciate me."

"He said that?" Ziva asks with a slight smile.

Abby shrugs. "Well, he meant it."

"Was he wrong?"

"No." Abby sighs again and leans back against Ziva's arm.

Ziva echoes her, relaxing against the wall.

"So are your knots still not knotty?" Abby asks after several minutes pass.

Ziva turns and looks at her, bewildered.

"Are you missing Roy?" Abby asks.

Ziva shakes her head. "No. I did when I ran this morning, but I'm alright about that."

"So?"

It takes a long time for Ziva to speak. She knows Abby is sweet but perhaps not the best secret-keeper. Then she shrugs the worry away. Tony is not available again tonight, and who else can she talk to? "The woman today, our suspect."

"The lady butcher?" Abby grins.

"Right. When we thought it was her boyfriend—she asked how she could not have seen it? She was making it up, but I believed her for a minute. Because I remember what that felt like. I remember the moment when Ari admitted to Gibbs that he'd killed Kate, that he was working for Hamas." She sees Abby's face tighten at the mention of Kate and squeezes her shoulder.

"So you're all twisted up over him?" Abby asks stiffly.

"No," Ziva answers quickly. "But remembering that feeling—that I must have missed all the signs, got me thinking about someone else who...who has me in knots."

"Tony," Abby says confidently.

"What?" Ziva asks, startled, pulling away.

"Oh, come on," Abby says, a bit of teasing returning to her voice. "There's really no other option."

Ziva starts to protest, then returns to her point. "The signs I should have seen with Ari—going off with silly excuses that I accepted knowing he'd tell me sooner or later what was going on, keeping his communications with me separate from those with his Hamas handlers, the thousand little bits of body language that showed nervousness and anxiety around me—I should have known better."

"He was your brother," Abby offers, the best sympathy she can come up with. Then she frowns. "What does any of that have to do with Tony?"

Ziva can see that Abby is bristling to defend her friend. "Abby, I have always found Tony trustworthy before. But his disappearances from work—I can tell when he's lying, he hasn't given a real excuse in weeks. He has a second, mystery cellphone...I know he's dating someone, but there's something far more serious than that making him uncomfortable." She stops talking but continues to plead with her eyes for Abby to consider the evidence rather than jumping to protect Tony.

After a moment Abby speaks, staring at her knees, "he asked me a couple weeks ago about secrets. Said he had a big one. Seemed like it was bothering him."

Ziva watches her profile carefully.

"I think if he was deliberately keeping a secret from me, he wouldn't tell me he had one," Abby says carefully, thinking as she speaks. She turns to look at Ziva. "I know Tony's had his share of screw-ups, but the same way I knew you were likely to be knotted up over him, he'd be a mess without you. I get that if you can't trust your own brother, it doesn't seem like you should even give Tony a chance. But, Ziva? I don't think Tony would betray us."

"Ari was my family, and he did it," Ziva says. "He used my love for him to manipulate me for his own purposes." Her voice is little more than a whisper and she's surprised to even hear the words come out of her mouth. Since she talked to Roy about him a few nights ago it seems her memories of Ari keep coming up.

Abby takes Ziva's hand between hers. "Ziva, what you have to know is, we're Tony's family. You and me, Timmy and Gibbs. I know it seems like it should be easier for a co-worker to betray co-workers than for someone to betray his family, but these are two men both with the option to betray their families, and I didn't know your brother, but I just know Tony would never do it."

Ziva stares into Abby's face. She's definitely sincere, and Ziva is surprised to find her words are genuinely comforting. "Thank you, Abby."

They both lean back against the wall. Abby pulls one hand away from Ziva's to squeeze Bert. Both women laugh.

"Abby?" McGee calls nervously from the doorway to the lab. He and Palmer pop into view.

"Drink?" Ziva murmurs to Abby.

Abby nods and stands, pulling Ziva to her feet.

"All better, boys," Abby coos, and leads them all back to the elevator.

Ziva follows, smiling, wishing she hadn't been through so much that she can't help suspecting those closest to her.


	7. And You Do

**And You Do**

Chapter 7 takes place after **Grace Period **(4x19). I must say, the episodes are available online so the best reason to buy the season 4 DVDs is really Michael Weatherly doing the commentary for this episode by himself, admittedly on pain killers, and rambling about bionic ears, tiny mountains, going bald, wearing sunglasses, foofs... In his own words, "I just know, there's some good looking people, there's some corduroy, Mark Harmon has blue eyes, silver hair, this man appears to be lying—right? Is he lying?"

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"Why can't you tell her, Tony? It's just three simple little words...Life is too short not to tell someone you love them if you do. And you do."

Tony doesn't answer right away, and eventually enough time has passed that he doesn't have to. But Paula's words hang in the air, and there's no way he can avoid them.

Her words are still with him the next morning, back in that same room, as he stares up at the whole in the ceiling that her agents made.

"Is something wrong?" Ziva asks softly.

"It was supposed to be us," he tells her.

"But it wasn't."

"Nope. Not this time." She doesn't seem as fazed, but he reminds himself that she's lived with these sorts of bombings her whole life. And then she stops in the doorway, turns back to look at him, and the pain in her eyes tells him how deeply she feels for Paula right now, tells him Ziva knows exactly what this feels like, has felt it herself. It's all Tony can do not to run to her, to pull her into his arms. To tell her—Tony breaks eye contact with her, turns to check out the room one more time. When he turns back, Ziva is gone. His pulse is racing though he hasn't moved. Whether Paula is right or not, he can't have Ziva and he knows it. He tries to know it.

But twenty minutes later, Paula is dead, and twelve hours later Tony is standing outside Ziva's door with a purpose.

"Tony?" Ziva greets him with surprise.

Tony steps inside, follows her into the living room and stops. Ziva looks up at him questioningly, and for a second he hesitates, but then he forces the words out. "Paula and I were talking, just yesterday—" His voice fails for a moment. "Talking about telling people that you...care about them." He's chickened out, but it's close enough.

Ziva nods, eyes locked on his, and waits for him to continue.

"Ziva." He can't find the words, so he steps towards her, slides his hands into her hair, looks deep into her eyes for a split second, finds her consent and kisses her desperately.

She doesn't object, not at first. She's been just as appalled by their brush with fate as he has, even if she's hidden it better. There's nothing better than sex for keeping death at bay, that she learned early on in Mossad, and the way Tony's touching her now there's little doubt that's where they're headed. But she hasn't been able to trust him, not for weeks, he's been lying to her, and if she's going to let him get this close they have to resolve it first. So she pulls away.

"Ziva?" Tony asks as she steps back from his embrace.

"Tony." She takes a second to catch her breath. "Tony, I believe you care about me, but I can't do this with you if I can't trust you."

There is a question in her eyes and he sees it. He has to decide, right now, whether or not to follow orders, whether or not to tell Ziva the whole story. And his answer has been no for so long now that he almost walks away. But if it had been them, if Ziva had died, he would have given anything to have this moment with her. So Tony tells her everything: La Grenouille, Jeanne, everything.

Ziva listens carefully to his story. It is gratifying: her partner _was_ doing something circumspect; his silence was only because he was following orders. It is horrifying: her would-be lover has been sleeping with someone else, has been trading evenings with her for outings with another woman. She walks away from him, stops at the window, looking out into the city at night. Tony follows her, settles his hands on her shoulders, then trails them down her arms and hips until his hands grasp the front of her thighs, thumbs pressing against the inseams of her jeans in a way that makes her groan. Tony chuckles appreciatively. She slaps the back of his hand to still him.

"Tony, if this mission is as important as you say, you shouldn't be here."

Now he does withdraw his hands, stepping beside her to look into her face. "What if this is more important to me than the mission?"

Ziva smiles gently. "In Israel we live with these sorts of bombings as everyday events. And while there's definitely something to be said for living like each day is your last, when it turns out not to be, the consequences can be disastrous."

As she glances away, she licks her lips unconsciously, and it's too much for Tony to ignore. He knows what she's saying, but too much has happened today for him to listen. He knows she's on the verge of rejecting him, but he is less respectful of her refusal that she was of his, because of Paula and the day's stresses, because of the way she moaned when he touched her. Before either can speak again, Tony's mouth is on hers, his hands all over her body, one leg between hers as he presses her into the wall.

This doesn't change things, Ziva wants to tell him, knowing its up to her now to stop this—but more than that she wants Tony to kiss her just like this, to touch her just like this, wants to finally, finally be with him.

She wants it so badly that only when he sheds his jacket and starts to unbutton her jeans does she push him away, hard. She is panting as she steps away from him and is suddenly cold without his body heat radiating into her.

"God, Ziva," he begs, holding out a hand.

She shakes her head, takes another step back. She doesn't break her warning gaze; she's sure if she closes her eyes for a second he'll be in her space again. "Tony, this would compromise everything you have been working on. You couldn't do this and go back to your mission the same way. Jen will figure it out, and Gibbs--"

"Ziva, I love you." There, he's said it.

She sighs, fighting the swelling feeling in her chest, struggles to remember the delicacy of undercover work, the need for Tony to do his job properly. "Tony, Paula died today. Paula who you cared for, who was just like us in so many ways. Don't tell me that now."

"Even if I mean it?" He steps toward her, less than a foot separating them, and the tenderness in his eyes roots Ziva to the spot.

"If you mean it, it'll wait."

"Will you?"

It takes longer than he'd like before she answers, perhaps two seconds. "Yes," she whispers. It's more than she's admitted to any man, but it is undeniable now, and his admission is making her reckless herself. Ziva watches him closely, the smile that captures his face as she answers, and can't help hoping he'll kiss her again.

Instead he presses his lips to her cheek, just at the corner of her mouth. She focuses completely on the contact.

Tony steps back. "I suppose I should go."

Ziva nods reluctantly and follows him back to her front door.

Tony turns halfway out the door and leans back inside. "Good-night, Ziva David," he says softly, warmly.

She smiles at him, eyes lit up with happiness, and as many times as he's seen her smile over a joke or a prank, Tony's never seen her look like this. He allows himself one more long look before he leaves.

It doesn't take long before Tony finds himself outside Jeanne's door, greeting her softly with the magic words. He sees the joy in her face, and he's not sure if he loves her, but he's glad to make her that happy. They kiss. When they part Jeanne thinks she knows why there are tears on his cheeks, but she doesn't.

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A/N I deliberated about having them actually get together in this chapter, and I know there are many out there who'd love to see it, but the way they interact on screen later in the season, I don't really buy that they've had sex.

A/N 2 My baby brother's bar mitzvah is tomorrow, so there may be new chapters this weekend but no promises. Funny story about that: so, I try on the white dress I got for the event for my roommate, and as I'm putting it on, I think, 'This looks like Abby's Marilyn dress from Witch Hunt!' and then I go out in the hall, where my roommate promptly says, "Hey, you look like Marilyn Monroe!" At which point I admit to thinking it looked like an NCIS character dressed up as Marilyn Monroe, and get teased repeatedly for being a nerd. Hee.


	8. No More Secrets

**No More Secrets**

A/N I know it's been a few days, but here's some more! And thanks muchly to those of you who've let me know that you're enjoying this piece.

This chapter falls during **Brothers in Arms (4x21).**

**_______________________________________________________________________  
**

Tony snaps the phone shut and leans against the wall, heart racing with nervousness. He walks over to his desk and sits slowly, trying to remember what the case is about.

"Tony?" Ziva asks from her desk, "Is everything okay?"

He looks up at her, trying to think how to cover up for his emotions. And then he remembers: he's told her everything. A smile flashes across his face. "Not here," he says under his breath.

Confusion crosses her face, but Ziva nods. She watches him another minute, then goes back to her forms.

Tony looks around his desk, resumes the background check he was working on before Jeanne called. As he finishes it, he glances over to Ziva and gasps at seeing her standing over him.

She smirks. "I'm going for tea, do you want coffee?" she asks casually.

Tony grins at the opening. "I'll walk with you," he says.

They don't talk as they walk toward the elevator, but Tony finds himself elated, acutely aware of Ziva's closeness, but even more excited that they're in cahoots, that he can unburden himself to her, is in this _with_ her.

Neither speaks until they're outside the gates of the Navy yard. Then Ziva looks sideways at Tony. "So?" she asks without preamble.

"Jeanne decided to surprise me by springing her mother on me for dinner tonight," Tony answers with false enthusiasm.

Ziva laughs. "Looking forward to it?"

Tony snorts and she laughs again. "I've never really done the whole meeting-the-parents thing. Never made it that far." He mumbles the last part of the confession.

Ziva sees the insecurity in his eyes. "I once went undercover on a date with a man and it turned out to be to his family wedding." She chuckles. "All the criminals we were ultimately searching for were there, but I hadn't been briefed! It turned out later I had waltzed with a Nazi's uncle."

Tony grins with mock-regret. "Well, I don't think I'll be doing that tonight."

They pause their conversation a moment as Palmer walks past them, headed into the yard from the coffee shop. He salutes them with his coffee cup and they wave back.

"It's actually alright for you to be awkward about it," Ziva tells him once Palmer's out of earshot, "it'll make it believable—it's normal for a man to be nervous meeting the mother of his girlfriend. Just don't look secretive, that she will pick up on, especially," Ziva smirks, "if she knows your reputation."

"Maybe I could just skip it," Tony says hopefully.

Ziva looks at him skeptically. "And what if she can give you information about Jeanne's father? What if Jeanne breaks up with you for refusing? Nope," she says, enjoying his pain just a bit, "tonight you are meeting the parent."

Tony holds the door of the coffee shop for her and they enter. Inside, they order their coffee and tea, and find a table outside to sit a minute.

"So should I expect a surprise visit from your mother after this?" Tony asks, covering seriousness with a teasing tone.

Ziva looks down. "You need not worry; my mother died years ago."

"I'm sorry," Tony says gently. He watches her downcast eyes for a moment before asking, "What was she like?"

Ziva tilts her head thoughtfully. "She was very passive. My father tends to give orders even among family. I imagine most women would not have put up with him. But she was also gentle and creative—she grew up in Russia, and she was in love with the freedom she found in Israel. Tali was more like her than I was," her eyes fall to her tea. "She lost her mind with grief when Tali died, and was in a car accident herself shortly after."

Tony leans over to squeeze her hand, and Ziva smiles. "Well, I was only three when my mom died, so I don't remember her, but I've had quite a string of replacements over the years."

"Evil stepmothers?" Ziva suggests.

"Well," Tony begins, "First there was Mary, who thought no child was too young for boarding school. Fortunately, or not, my dad disagreed, and I got to torment her endlessly for about two years. Dog poo in her underwear drawer, salt in her coffee, the wondrous things any five-year old can dream up," he flashes a grin. "And then there was Shelley, who had three kids of her own, all older than me, and was sure she knew everything about mothering—she was the one who liked to dress me up like a little French lordling. Her kids weren't bad, they were just glad she had someone else to foist her attention upon. But the next one, Susanna, had some really awful brats, and I teased them and they _always_ told. Some of my best pranks were developed those years." He shakes his head with exaggerated ruefulness and is pleased to see Ziva laugh. "There have been three more wives since, but I was off to boarding school for real and out of the house so they were only able to make my life difficult on an occasional basis. Really though, it was like the Brady bunch when you got all my steps together."

Ziva shakes her head in confusion. "A movie?"

"Well, it was a TV show first, and then a movie, but the movie wasn't great. I bet we can rent the TV show, though," Tony tells her informatively.

She rolls her eyes. "Well, no mothers for us then, though it will be a crazy day if our fathers ever meet."

"Yeah. There must be some sit-com like that, though none is coming to mind." Tony stares off into the distance as he tries to think of one, until Ziva's foot tapping his under the table brings his attention quickly back to her.

"If you get nervous, undercover, the rules I was given early on were to avoid making statements about yourself—if you are not focused, you might contradict yourself. Ask questions casually to keep the conversation about the other person. And be aware of your body language. It is alright to fidget if you are in a situation where one would normally be uncomfortable, but be careful not to look left when you lie—even people who are not trained in profiling can pick these things up unconsciously."

Tony nods seriously, repeating the tips to himself for later. "If only they'd sent me to you for undercover training before this mission," he says, only half joking.

Ziva shrugs. "Better late than never," she says meaningfully.

The phones on both their hips vibrate at once and they jump up. Tony answers his. "Yeah, boss, we're just getting coffee. Back in a second."

They walk quickly back toward the gates to the Navy yard.

Just before they enter, Tony stops.

Ziva halts beside him, looking up questioningly. "Tony?"

He smiles at her. "I'm so glad you know."

She smiles back widely, then leads the way back inside.

*****

That night, Jeanne's mother questions him, notes the doubt in his eyes, tells him even he is wondering how long the relationship will last, and to summon surety to his face, Tony thinks of Ziva. He looks to the right and tells her that he plans to do his very best.

The next day he ducks out to answer Jeanne's 911, and Ziva's quick, teasing, "bad news from the dentist?" when he returns is enough to wipe away the terror he feels at getting in deeper and deeper with Jeanne.

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A/N As I rewatched In the Dark (4x22), I came across the scene where Ziva teases Tony about the complications of dating and tries to get information out of him. It's clear in that one scene only that Ziva doesn't know his mission, so...I'm going to choose to pretend it didn't happen! You should too, at least for the duration of this piece!


	9. Worth Your Wow

**Worth Your Wow**

This scene is from **Trojan Horse (4x23), **and needs a disclaimer even more than my others: all the dialogue in this scene comes straight from the episode, I've just added dialogue tags and Ziva's reflections to put my own spin on it.

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"Done!" Tony stretches.

Ziva sighs with envy. "I have a dozen Smiths left—wanna take half of them?"

"Heh. I don't think so."

"Hey, I'll make it worth your wow..." she smiles flirtatiously.

"_While, _not wow," Tony corrects. He's dismissive, so she ups the charm.

"Wow makes more sense."

"You're right, wow would be better." He walks away, looking at his phone.

She follows him with her eyes, appreciating the way he moves. "Then you'll help me?"

"No." He turns to grin, but then Jeanne is answering.

Ziva watches Tony as he crosses to the window to talk. His tone is gentle, and she can't quite make out his words at first. The last few she catches: "I love you, too, Jeanne." She has been trained to read people for years, and her stomach falls and her breath catches even before she can analyze him and say that she's sure he's not lying because of the angle of his head and his posture and his inflection.

And then all those clues add up and as fast as he turns, she sets her face back to normal, and the way he smiles at her gives her a last futile hope that she's imagining things.

He heads toward the elevator without asking her to come along, and Ziva wonders if it isn't too late to kiss him until he forgets this other woman entirely. But the argument she made after Paula's death still holds; he needs to be believable in his cover. She tries to shrug off the jealousy, but it's new for her. She's suddenly berating herself for helping him with his mission, for telling him to follow orders rather than claiming him as her own. Ziva brushes her hands over her face, wiping away her conflicted expression before anyone catches it. She's never been this kind of woman and she won't be now. She lifts the phone, dials the next number. "Is Robert Smith available, please?"

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A/N I know there's not much to this one, but it was so clearly there in the scene in the show—Ziva hears his I love you to Jeanne and reacts with sadness and pain. As brief as it is, I think this is one of the clearest signals to the audience that her concern for whatever is going on with him is because of feelings she has.

A/N 2 And yes, I changed my username. Because it's a great word and is very nearly what one of my brothers used to call me when he was a baby.


	10. Dry Eyed Mice

**Dry Eyed Mice **

One more chapter today, since this morning's was so short! Chapter 10 extends the scene in the bar with Ziva and Ducky from **Angel of Death (4x24).**

**A/N **For the first time, the chapter title is a quote from the episode that has nothing to do with the content of this story; it just makes me smile!

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"I have a funny feeling, Doctor," Ziva says softly.

Ducky glances over at her. Ziva, normally so composed, is indeed looking out of sorts. He raises an eyebrow at her and jokes about the tequila shooters she has been downing like lemonade.

Ziva doesn't take the bait; instead, she flips open her phone for the fourth time since Ducky sat down, and presses the call button.

"Straight to voice-mail, just like always when he's with her," she tells him.

Ducky studies her a moment before pointing out that she's monitoring Tony like a mother with a toddler...or a woman with a wayward lover.

Now Ziva is riled, and she turns to him, her words light and sarcastic but her face so adamant in its denial that Ducky knows he has struck a nerve. He pushes harder. "It's Friday night, Tony is with his girlfriend, and you're worried about him. What does that tell you?"

Ziva's face falls, and Ducky worries that he has gone too far, but her voice is steady. "He is my partner and my partner said he would be here and...and I have this, this not so good feeling."

Ziva excuses herself to the bathroom before he can say anything further on the subject.

In the women's room, Ziva locks the door and leans back against it with a sigh, wondering how she became this kind of woman. She was unbothered by how she tracked Tony when she thought he might be doing something secretive, but to still be doing it when he's confessed all his secrets is unprofessional, and she knows it. She's downright emotional right now.

She can't tell Ducky the truth, that Tony breaking plans with her now, after he's finally been honest with her about where he goes off to, could mean he'd really rather be with Jeanne. The signs are all there, and those she knows she's evaluating rationally. Earlier tonight, in the panic she's seen come over women who are not her before, she promised herself that when he showed up she'd get him drunk, take him home, remind him what they both wanted, what they're both waiting for. The knowledge that the night's plan is to end up in his arms has had her in a state of anticipation since they got here. But Tony's late, and Ziva's suddenly emotional brain is telling her that it might be too late.

She doesn't like thinking about her jealousy, but it's easier than the fear and pain that come when she lets herself dwell on the fact that the first man she has loved in her adult life is slipping away before she got a chance to hold him. That night she'd kissed him, her fantasy of their future was vague at best: pleasure, friendship, banter extending into the future. But now that that future might be endangered, it seems that every moment she sees some couple engaged in a moment she wants to have with Tony—heads bent together over the newspaper in a coffee shop, walking hand-in-hand down the street. She wants to be the one to find a house with him and sleep late with him on weekend mornings out of habit. There are still moments, even today, when she catches him watching her or when he stands just a hair closer in the lab than even Gibbs would, when she thinks that all those realities are still possible, will arrive just as soon as his mission is over. But his cellphone is off.

Just before introspection drives her insane, Ziva decides enough time has passed and heads back out to Ducky.

"So what do you toast to in Israel, my dear?" he asks.

She smiles, relieved that he isn't continuing his previous line of questioning. "Well, unless there's a particular event to toast, we say 'l'chaim!' which means 'to life!'"

Ducky raises his beer to toast her. "Well then, to life!"

*****

Later, when she knows where Tony was while she sat in the bar with Ducky, Ziva regrets her doubts about him. Not because they were invalid, but because if she'd trusted her own bad feeling more she might have traced him, might have showed up before Nick could give him a concussion with the butt of his gun, might have kept Tony from the limousine and La Grenouille. Later, when it's too late, she knows that being emotional nearly lost her everything.

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A/N I know that this episode is technically the last of season 4, but I'm going to have one more tag for **Bury Your Dead (5x01) **since it's the second half of this episode and the end of the Jeanne arc.


	11. Mine Found Out

**Mine Found Out**

Chapter 11 falls during **Bury Your Dead (5x01). **Ziva reacts to Tony's death, resurrection, and betrayal.

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The second Jenny walks into the bullpen and announces that Tony's undercover dating Le Grenouille's daughter, Ziva's stomach drops. Never mind her own jealousy, the mission has been compromised, and Tony's absence is suddenly not personal.

Five minutes later, Ziva sits in MTAC, trying to play surprised, actually surprised and amused that Tony's been a professor and conveniently left out that detail when telling her the op. She's planning how she'll tease him when they find him when—her shock at the explosion forces her up, out of her seat, gasping Tony's name. She starts trembling but doesn't know it. Her brain is suddenly conflating this moment with the moment she ran out of a cafe and turned back to see it blow up with Tali still inside; she can hear the strains of music, smell the smoke. She's not sure whether the thought that she's not sure she wants to be the survivor comes from that moment or this.

She stumbles out of MTAC, disregarding Gibbs, Jenny and McGee's questions, finds her way down the stairs and into the men's room, locking the door behind her. She been trained to react in extraordinary circumstances without crying, but sitting here on the bathroom floor she's as close to it as she's been since she nearly lost Gibbs all those months ago. Tony is dead. The words resonate through her brain even as her mind tries to evade them. Her best friend, the man she cannot say she loved because she never said the words to him.

Someone knocks on the door and McGee calls out her name, quietly, gently. "Ziva. We have to go, Ziva. We have to go see what happened."

She takes a deep breath, composing her face, stands and opens the door. McGee looks as bereft as she does, but he manages to say, "We still don't know it's him yet. There's a chance..."

Her eyes give her answer: she's been through too many of these to rely on hope.

At the scene of the explosion, she can't take her eyes from the wreck. She can keep from screaming and crying, that much has changed since Tali's death, but even though she feels Ducky watching her, Ziva can't look away.

She takes pictures because she's told to. Jenny won't meet her eyes. McGee won't give up his hope, but at the sight of Tony's badge, he looks as near to tears as Ziva still finds herself.

Momentum carries her through the collection of evidence, the documentation of the scene, but suddenly they are back in the squad room, time seeming to pass in fragments so that Ziva's not sure how they got back or who drove. And with nothing else to occupy her Ziva finds herself staring at Tony's desk, cataloging his jokes and jabs, all the memories she has of him sitting there before any of them can slip away.

She gets up to help McGee but isn't processing anything fully until Ducky is standing there with them, looking straight into her face as he says, "The body on which I am performing an autopsy is _not_ Tony's."

A smile crosses her face, but she still can't quite fit this piece of information into what is happening. As Jenny carries on with business, Ziva stands still. She feels shaky again, but she doesn't run. There is hope.

When she sees Tony step out of the elevator, the relief brings her close to tears again. It shocks her later how close she came to shooting a CIA agent when Kort pushes Tony in the wall, but the moment barely registers at the time because he's there, really there, cracking a joke, and her arms are around him before she can reign in her reaction. She's finally here, where he was after Paula died, but it's the excitement of life, not death, that's driving the words from her lips until she's just barely holding them back. If he doesn't hold her back as tightly, she doesn't notice.

When he's back at his desk finally, after his time upstairs, Ziva has finally processed it. Smiles flit across her face even though he's asking about Jeanne. She can't take her eyes off him, sitting at the desk that just hours ago was empty.

***

Tony doesn't realize until he sees the look on Jeanne's face when she learns the truth that when he says "not the important things," he means it. Has perhaps always meant it. It fills him at once with happiness and regret, anger and fear.

In the director's office, the anger surfaces: bitter sarcasm that makes Gibbs smirk and Jenny stiffen, harsh words and denials when Jenny tries to pry information from him. Anger because the fear is trying to overwhelm him, this fear that began the moment Ziva flung herself at him outside the elevators, clinging ferociously so that he had no choice but to understand the horror that her morning had been, believing him dead. He is not afraid of her but for her, for the moment when he tells her the truth he himself has learned this morning.

And then, mere minutes later, fear is coursing through him again, because whoever nearly killed him is after Jeanne.

In the car he is silent, but Ziva doesn't mind, is grateful just to be able to watch him. It is clear that he is still consumed by the mission and the havoc it is wreaking on his life, but she allows herself this moment of selfishness and relief. She will gladly confirm that this woman is alive and out of Tony's reach if it will permit them to move on together.

He meant to wait, to save Ziva from this pain until he could live with causing it, but Jeanne's letter makes that impossible. _Tony, I'm not coming back. You need to choose. -Jeanne _If there's a chance with her, which it seems there might be, in this instant he's inclined to take it. Which means he can't put off telling Ziva any longer.

"You ever lie to someone you loved, Ziva?" he asks softly.

She lets the question sink in before she answers. "Yes."

"They ever forgive you?" He's not sure himself if he's wondering about her or Jeanne.

"They never found out."

"Mine found out." As his words sink in, Ziva feels, for the second time in one day, that she is caught in an explosion. She keeps nodding, her lips curved in the facsimile of a smile.

"He told her?"

"No. I did."

She says she'll put out a BOLO just to say something, just for an excuse to get away. In the hallway she lets her features relax into the grimace of pain that is becoming all too familiar. She calls McGee for the BOLO and keeps her voice steady, and she thanks God for once for her training, that she can keep from falling apart.

When she's done talking to him, Ziva goes back inside, forcing herself to face Tony because she made the mistake once today of giving up on hope, and she can't risk making the same mistake again now. He's standing aimlessly in the middle of the room, his face pained, and she loves him so much today, on this day when she almost lost him, that her step quickens as she approaches him until she's embracing him for the second time today. This time her mouth finds his.

Her lips are greedy, after all that's happened, and for a moment Tony gives himself over to the abandon of it. But then he pulls back, leaves her cold, not for the first time.

Ziva looks up and sees the tears in Tony's eyes. "It's all over now, don't worry," she whispers.

"Ziva..." He can't find the words to hurt her too.

The sorrow on his face tells her she was wrong to hope. She hasn't spent more than a decade in this line of work without learning how people behave. She tries to be clinical about it, tries to suppress her own emotions as best she can. She offers him a way out. "I know you liked her, Tony, it's alright to feel guilty. I've felt that myself after a few missions. Sometimes good people get used, not just the bad ones."

He nods, but the pain in his face doesn't resolve, and Ziva knows it's worse. She clenches her hands tightly, says the words. "You love her." It is a statement, not a question, but any uncertainty she had evaporates as his eyes settle on hers. He is hiding nothing, is just guilty and apologetic. She gasps at the loss that washes over her; the gasp threatens to turn into the sobs she's been bottling up all day. Ziva clenches her teeth to keep it at bay, but the way her eyes glisten and her nostrils flare tell Tony what she's feeling.

Forced to see heartbreak he has caused for the second time in one day, Tony takes her in his arms, holds her close, whispers over and over, "I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen, Ziva, I'm so sorry."

She pulls away after only a moment, eyes red but refusing to spill over. "I suppose I should have asked you to wait, too."

It is a cruel jab, but Tony takes it without complaint. "It's not that I don't—I did have feelings for her, though, and I hurt her so badly today—to be here with you, now, it feels like--"

"Like you're cheating on her."

"Yes."

She laughs, a little hysterically. "This is all we ever do, Tony. Whenever one of us is ready to do this, the other has some reason not to."

He nods, smiles humorlessly. "I guess you're right."

Ziva looks at him closely. There is concern in his eyes, sorrow, but not what she wants. It is a crushing blow after this day of wild sadness and joy, and she turns and leaves. The keening threatens to burst out the whole reckless drive back to her apartment, but she contains it until she is safely inside, curled like a baby on her own couch, wishing she were so innocent again, wishing she had her mother to comfort her, that her best friend hadn't survived only to choose someone else.

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**A/N **I gave in and bought the season 5 DVDs so I could watch this one. The commentary for this episode is by Michael Weatherly and his mother, which was pure comedy. Most hilariously, at one point she comments what a nice singing voice Cote has and she should sing on the show...maybe undercover? In response Michael makes a crack about her having a lounge act. At the time they were still filming season 5, so you have to wonder—did MW know about the season 6 opener? Or did Shane Brennan just take a plot suggestion from MW's mom? Either way, pretty funny. Just thought y'all might enjoy that.

**A/N 2** One more chapter to go, read on!


	12. There Won't Be Another

**There Won't Be Another**

Chapter 12 follows **Bury Your Dead (5x01). **After Tony leaves Jeanne's apartment, he must make a decision about who and what to choose.

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Tony is dry-eyed as he stares off his balcony at the three-story drop. He can't stand he person he's become, this person who could betray every woman who means anything to him. He remembers a night, months ago, when Ziva fell asleep beside him without her gun. He's not sure she'd even let him past the doorway now unless she were armed. And maybe not even then.

A knock at the door startles him from his contemplation.

_Please, not Ziva_, flashes through his mind, and guilt sweeps over him once more. But being face to face with her pain again just might drive him over this ledge.

"DiNozzo, open up!" comes his boss' voice, and Tony runs to answer the door.

As it swings open, Gibbs reads Tony's face. The younger man is making no effort to hide the chaos of emotions that are overwhelming him. Gibbs pulls him into a hug and Tony is suddenly shaking, crying, pleading apology for his tears and weakness. Gibbs holds on to him until the emotion subsides.

"It's alright, Tony, it's alright."

Finally, they are sitting on the couch with two open beers, and Tony is spilling the whole saga of Jeanne. He leaves Ziva out of it, for now. When Tony finally runs out of breath, Gibbs begins to speak.

"One mission, in Paris, I was sent undercover, like you were. My partner, Jenny, knew, but it bothered her that I was seducing a woman in a long-term sort of way. Hell, it bothered me, too. She was just a college kid, the younger sister of a terrorist cell leader, real sweet girl. I suppose I was more considerate of her because I felt guilty than I would have been otherwise. Regardless of why, she loved me. Loved who I was pretending to be. The worse I felt, the more jealous Jenny was." He glances over at Tony to check that he doesn't have to explain why Jenny would have been jealous and nods at the confirmation in Tony's face. "She didn't understand that I was just trying to take care of the poor kid. It would have been better, I suppose, if I'd been a bastard, but no one ever thinks of that at the time."

Tony nods.

"She's not who I'd've picked for myself, but she loved me. It's a powerful thing."

Tony nods again.

"So, who would you have picked?" Gibbs asked seriously, eyes glinting with amusement when Tony grows instantly flustered.

"Boss," he starts, but cannot finish.

"Yeah, I wondered if that would happen."

"That?" Tony asks warily.

Gibbs gives him a knowing look. "You and Ziva."

Tony sinks back into the couch, eyes conflicted again, and Gibbs realizes he's read this wrong. "I thought when I left, surely--"

Tony's eyes flash with anger and he sits up straight again. "You thought I'd break the rules? Be careless with my responsibilities to NCIS, to the team?"

Gibbs puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Tony, I trusted you or I wouldn't have left, but I've lived that mistake and it's a hard one to avoid. I'm glad to know you did better than I hoped."

Tony shakes his head vigorously, trying to clear the joy at Gibbs' approval. He doesn't deserve it. "But I screwed up, boss. I didn't have sex with Ziva, but I loved her. And then I fell for someone else."

Gibbs sighs. "Did you tell Ziva?"

Tony gestures toward the door. "Earlier..."

Gibbs nods. "I never told Jenny I loved Marie, but I defended the girl. Enough that she knew I was emotionally involved. She got herself reassigned while I was out one night. Left me a letter apologizing for leaving without talking things out but saying she couldn't be casual about our involvement and I'd hurt her too badly to stay."

Tony is watching him raptly and sees the old pain in Gibbs' face, the memory of coming home from the bed of his assignment to the bed of his lover, only to find it empty.

"Sorry, Boss."

"It was a long time ago, Tony. I didn't see her again until she was made Director."

"But there's still something between you." It's not a question.

Gibbs shrugs. "I loved the woman she was but she's changed too much." He's getting nervous talking this personally with Tony, but he started it, and he knows Tony needs distraction. "I suppose maybe I haven't changed as much as all that."

Tony nods. "The way she talked about you right after you left—like she missed you but she deserved it. It makes sense, now."

Gibbs closes his eyes against the memory of those days in Paris by himself. "Don't let Ziva run away, is what I'm trying to say. Not if she's who you want."

Tony hangs his head. "I drove her away. Because I think she is—but I also think Jeanne might be." He takes a deep breath. "And she left a note. If I walked away from all of this, I think she'd take me back."

Gibbs shakes his head, and his tone is irritated. "Tony, only one of those women knows you, who you really are, and still wants you. What you had with Jeanne—it was a lie."

"I wasn't lying." There are tears standing in Tony's eyes again. When he begins to speak, he is agitated and gets up, pacing as he speaks. "She may not trust me anymore, but what I felt for her was real. She got closer to knowing me than anyone outside NCIS has in eight years. She may not have known my job, but she knew me. And I knew her. And if there hadn't been this one big secret—who knows?" He looks straight at Gibbs as he finishes. "I don't blame her for being angry that I've lied all these months, but..." he trails off.

"Well?" Gibbs asks.

Tony casts his eyes downwards. "I guess there's not much else, is there?"

"Nope."

Tony darts a glance at his boss as he returns to his taciturn self.

"But I can't be with Ziva. Not if I still have feelings for someone else."

"Plus it's against the rules, DiNozzo," Gibbs says, and the way he waves his hand in the air tells Tony he'd be due for a headslap if he were still on the couch. A hint of a smile crosses his face.

"Back to normal, then," Tony says wearily. "Random women and dark bars, the old DiNozzo fallback."

Gibbs watches him carefully, hearing the self-loathing in Tony's voice. "There are a lot of women in this world, Tony," he finally says. "And given time, even the ones you've just hurt might give you another chance. I know you're a mess tonight, but give yourself time. And try not to screw around so much you blow any chance you might have." They sit quietly for a few minutes. Tony sinks back onto the couch, tilts his beer down his throat and gets another. Gibbs doesn't comment.

"What did you do in Paris?"

Gibbs sighs. "I finished the mission. I tried to get in touch with Jenny over and over. We arrested Marie's brother and she walked in. She looked at me once and walked out. I could never get in touch with her again, either."

"Ouch. Sorry, boss."

"So I went back home for a while, met a girl, took an assignment in Russia and married the girl so she could come too. Great honeymoon, terrible marriage."

There is enough irony in Gibbs' voice that Tony manages the shadow of a laugh.

"So don't get married any time soon, DiNozzo."

"Feel free to smack me if I do, Boss."

Gibbs studies Tony again. He's smiling, at least, and not too drunk to process the day's actions. "I think you'd better get some rest, Tony. Agonizing about it more won't help any."

Tony nods and rises to see Gibbs out.

At the door, Gibbs pauses a moment, puts his hand on Tony's shoulder. "And Tony, if you walked away? We'd all miss you. When I knew you were doing Jenny's dirty work, I was irritated, sure, but you're still family. And when we thought you were dead—I know you wonder about your worth sometimes, but believe me." He stops to blink back—what? Tony wonders, shocked by the emotion in Gibbs' face.

"Believe me," Gibbs finishes, "we were all grief-stricken."

Tony nods, unable to speak, and Gibbs leaves. Gibbs' words slip beneath the layer of self-loathing that Tony has been wearing like a hair shirt, irritating him and making the itch of guilt unbearable—but also soothing away the pain. This is home.

Alone now, Tony struggles not to pick up his cellphone. He's honestly not sure who he'd call, Jeanne or Ziva. Both of them have good reason to hate him, and he has no intention of trampling on those rights. Finally he picks up the cellphone and drops it off the balcony. Alone, that's what Gibbs had meant. He'll be okay by himself for a while. He doesn't wait to check if the phone is in one piece on the lawn. If he can find it in the morning, he'll retrieve it then. In the meantime, Tony goes to bed alone, the only way to avoid hurting anyone more than he already has.

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**A/N** So, I was planning to tell you how this was the ending, happy or otherwise, since I couldn't reconcile Ziva's behavior in Family with the things I've put her through in this story. But then I started watching season 5 marathon style and discovered an alternative: I'll write one last tag, for Identity Crisis (5x04), as an epilogue/potentially happy ending if you'll all pretend along with me that Ziva didn't try to be conciliatory and supportive in Family. Sound good? It should be up late today or tomorrow.


	13. A Woman

**A Woman**

Chapter 13 (the last!) follows **Identity Crisis (5x04). **So, this story has gone alternate reality enough that I need you to discount Family (5x02) for this to make sense. Imagine that since everything I wrote did happen, and Tony more or less broke Ziva's heart, instead of trying to cheer him up and get him back on track in Family, she's been cold and withdrawn and all the things Mossad taught her to be around someone she can't trust.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Tony sits at his desk, gazing across the aisle at Ziva. He wonders what it takes to learn to approach the world in a default state of defensiveness. In the two months since Jeanne left, Ziva has walked around with a thin layer of steel beneath her skin, keeping anything or anyone from touching her. When Gibbs is around, she makes some effort to speak to Tony cordially, but even when that slips into hostility, Gibbs doesn't say anything. Tony isn't sure if Ziva's realized that he told Gibbs what passed between them, but he can hardly tell her now.

It's exhausting, the amount of time he spends missing someone who sits opposite him. He's been surprised to find that except for occasional, fleeting reminders of Jeanne—when he flips on the TV to a movie they watched together, when he passes a restaurant where they ate—he doesn't think of her. Her absence has left him missing companionship, but not hers in particular. Instead he misses Ziva. He makes jokes to get her attention, pulls pranks on McGee to see if she'll laugh, but nothing seems to be working.

It was hard at first to take Gibbs' advice, to stay away from one-night-stands. But after he spent a few nights flirting with drunken co-eds in the bars near Georgetown, he quickly realized there was no way that 22-year-olds in mini-skirts could compare to his ass-kicking hot ninja of a partner. And yet today they have the delectable Courtney along for the ride, just within his age bracket and a LEO, no less. She smiles at him when he and Gibbs pick her up in the restaurant, and Tony is toast.

He spends the day in a happy haze of hormones. She's cute and seems to appreciate his wit and dashing good looks. It seems like a reasonable solution to his loneliness until, out of the blue, Ziva finally breaks her silence, confronts him about Courtney.

"You want to sleep with her," she says brusquely.

Tony stops short beside the copier. "Well, so...what if I do?"

Ziva shakes her head, and he's surprised she cares. "Same old Tony. I thought the new Tony wanted something more, a real relationship."

Now it's Tony who's on the defensive. She won't even speak to him, but still wants to control his dating choices? "I was pretending to be someone else."

"Well, you could have fooled me. I thought you had grown," Ziva taunts.

"I'm not particularly interested in outgrowing sex," Tony snaps back.

"Sure it would be nice, Tony, but it would be meaningless, empty. It would be wrong for you. She is a pretty girl but she is...just a girl. The man you were becoming needs a woman. At least I thought he did." Done with her monologue, Ziva twirls and storms off down the hallway, while Tony watches her, stunned. The way she said _A woman..._

He's caught off guard again as a file folder smacks the back of his head. "_That_ was your chance, DiNozzo," Gibbs says harshly as he passes Tony on his way to his desk.

"Yes, boss," Tony murmurs, still watching Ziva until she disappears into the elevator.

As he takes his own seat, Tony finds himself elated. It's clear now that the extent of Ziva's defensiveness has been a reflection of the degree to which he's hurt her, and while he can hardly blame her and regrets all of it, the fact that she might just still care makes his own heart race. Jealousy is a chink in her armor, and encouraging as all hell to his hopes that something might still come of them. Tony can barely summon interest in Courtney when she reappears later, though he pulls out some charm for their 'date,' just to keep Ziva's interest piqued, and watches with amusement as Courtney forces her way under Ziva's wing.

***

Tony stands outside her building that night with a paper bag full of food, movies, beer—the accoutrements of their evenings together. He's more nervous than when, at eleven, he asked a girl out for the first time. She might not be ready to talk to him, she might not even let him in, and if it's too soon and he pushes, he might not ever get another chance. He leans against the door of his car, trying to imagine her reaction, and finds he can't.

"Tony?" Ziva asks, approaching from down the block.

He whirls, startled, stupefied in surprise. "Ziva."

"What do you want, Tony?" she asks tensely.

He tries not to let his racing heartbeat drown out his words. "You said before that you think I need a woman."

She nods warily.

"Did you have someone in mind?" He smiles brightly, falsely, nervously.

Ziva presses her lips together tightly, looking him over. "I'm just trying to keep you from making another mistake, Tony."

He's not quite sure how to interpret that but doesn't want to push her. "I brought some food and a copy of _Rush Hour_. I was thinking after we watch it, you could show me how to do the fight sequences?" he blurts.

A smile crosses her face, the first time in weeks that she's responded to him, and Tony relaxes. Ziva gestures to him to lead the way, and he fights the smile that tries to take over his own face, not wanting to spook her now.

Inside, the memories settle against their skin. Tony notices Ziva's eyes snap to the place where on his last visit he pressed her into the wall, kissing her fiercely, but she doesn't say anything so he averts his eyes before she catches him. He sets up the DVD while Ziva opens their beers and sets out silverware on the coffee table. Neither speaks.

Tony stands beside the couch, waiting for Ziva to come over with ice and glasses. She sets them on the table, then turns to him. Her body is rigid with tension.

"Ziva," he says softly.

Her eyes flicker over his face. She can still read him, and relaxes slightly when she finds no aggression, not even lust there. He is apologetic, tender.

She smiles hesitantly.

"Ziva, I'm sorry. I know Gibbs doesn't like apologies, but unless you object, I owe you one."

Ziva nods.

"I didn't know what I was getting into with Jeanne," he sees her flinch at the name and rushes to continue, "and when it all went to hell, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know enough about having feelings for anybody to sort out what I was feeling for either of you."

Her lips hint at a smirk as Tony admits his limited knowledge of love, and Tony can tell that self-deprecation is getting him somewhere, at least.

"Ziva, I miss you. And I don't miss Jeanne. I regret that I hurt her, sure, but—most of the time I don't think about her. And it feels like every minute I think of you."

"Tony, I sit six feet away from you," she points out, but her tone is soft.

"It's terrible to reminded so often," he jokes, and is rewarded by a laugh. But when she doesn't answer, her eyes cast down, his unease returns. "Ziva?" he finally asks. "What are you thinking?"

She looks up at him and for the first time in two months her vulnerability is written all over her face. "Tony, I haven't done this often either. Rarely enough that it...hurt me, when you turned away from me."

She is struggling to hold eye contact and Tony wants to put his arms around her. If only they weren't such emotionally-avoidant people, he thinks, they might be able to have this conversation more easily.

"I'm sorry," he says again. "I'm here now."

Ziva nods, smiling slightly. "Beer?" she gestures to the table and takes a seat on the couch.

Hesitantly, Tony takes a seat on the other end of the couch. If she wants to sit close to him, he's hardly opposed, but he won't rush this. He chuckles as she starts to chug her beer and she glances over, rolling her eyes at him. Tony tries to drink his own in a similar fashion, but he's laughing too hard and the beer is coming out his nose and then they're both laughing, the tension trickling away as they collapse against the back of the sofa, until laughter is slowly replaced by giggles, then by grins.

They watch the movie with occasional protests from Ziva about the unrealistic nature of the action sequences and happy rejoinders from Tony about suspension of disbelief and the magic of Jackie Chan, and when she sees Tony out at the end of the night, Ziva brushes her lips across his cheek. As he drives home, Tony can't stop smiling. Something invaluable has been restored to him.

***

Weeks more pass in the same fashion before their evenings become more than platonic. But then one night, after a particularly rousing sing-along to _The Sound of Music _to celebrate Ziva's birthday, they find themselves curled up on Tony's couch in the same position as that first night, now nearly a year earlier, when she kissed him. Once again Ziva leans into Tony's space and they're both suddenly remembering: that kiss, the others they shared in Ziva's apartment and even Jeanne's, the way their bodies ignite on contact. Tony slips his hand into Ziva's hair and she leans up, and now there's another kiss to add to the others—but this one doesn't end with someone pulling away except to breathe.

"You're not going to object to this?" Ziva whispers, teasing.

Tony chuckles. "I won't if you won't." He pulls her close again, his guilt finally easing as she sits across his lap and erases all the things they've done wrong in the past year as she happily presses her lips to his.

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THE END! My instinct is against sappy endings, but after the amount of angst in this story the resolution needed something slightly saccharin. Hope you liked it. And to those of you who have enjoyed this and written to tell me so, thanks again! It's been fun. ~Em

A/N 2 *shameless plug* If you've enjoyed this, you should check out my other story, Pivotal Moments, which tracks Ziva's relationship with Michael across season 6 similarly to how this one tracks Ziva and Tony across season 4. Tony will likely appear in that piece as well. The first chapter has a character I invented, which I think is throwing people off, but keep going, it skips around the way this one has. It'll also be updated more often now that this is done.


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